Christmas traditions orange clove faith joy

Have a very orange Christmas

December 13, 2023 by Emily Downs in Holiday

Orange is not a color I usually think of at Christmas time. Yet, this year, I found my mind often wandering back to the brightly-hued citrus fruit. When I contemplate what this holiday season is supposed to mean and what is has become, I remember my grandpa sharing how, as a child, he was thrilled to get an orange for Christmas. It seemed to be the star of the show, as far as presents went.

If you grew up reading Laura Ingalls Wilder’s books, like I did as girl, you might remember her receiving an orange and being equally thankful as my grandpa, This round fruit seems to be the Talking Elmo of its day. Everyone wanted an orange. In the case of the 19th-century author and my grandpa, they lived in areas reminiscent of that famous Irving Berlin song, “A White Christmas.” December is snowy and cold and . . . well, white; beautiful in its sheer vastness, its very monotone. I think this is why the lights and tinsel shine so bright in the wintery parts of the world. And why the vibrant orange would make a child’s eyes light up on Christmas morning. It’s a piece of summer, sweet and sticky, in a cold season that is void of color. It’s a reminder and a promise wrapped in a rind.

oranges at Christmas decorations natural

I spent a little time researching the tradition of the orange at Yuletide. Several cultures use them and have stories behind the humble fruit. There are legends of them representing the gold coins that Santa would drop in stockings, hung on the hearth, where they would melt by the fire and become a ball of gold. The Victorians made pomanders by sticking cloves in oranges as gifts and they also decorated tree boughs and iced cakes with thinly dried slices. The tradition of putting oranges in stockings has been around for a long time. Here in the U.S., lingering depression and war brought rationing at an already scarce time of year, so a pop of color, tart and sweet would have felt like a taste of heaven.

I often find myself talking about the joy of getting an orange for Christmas in retrospect to the consumerism of today. Can you imagine a modern child being excited over an orange in their stocking? I still remember being upset over getting a sleeping bag instead of a doll one year. I have the snapshot to prove it; my disappointment written on my face. With trays of cookies and cups of hot cocoa, who wants a piece of fruit? Unless of course, it’s dipped in chocolate.

We can now buy bags of oranges, that we then forget about on top of our fridge and throw away weeks later. There are so many varieties of orange juice it has its own section in the store. Fruit, although lovely, has lost its wow factor in our time of plenty. So, to me the orange in snowy weather represents something I’m after, something I’m longing for. . . it’s no longer fruit. Or maybe it is.

An orange in a Winterland feels otherworldly; it clearly traveled from afar, like an exotic visitor. It makes me think of the real purpose of this annual celebration we call Christmas. As Christians, we are focused on the birth of our Saviour, who came like a pop of color into a dark world. He pierced the darkness in a way that ripples through time, backwards and forwards, offering hope to us earthlings. Announced by angels, spotlighted by a star, he arrived out of season, because the earth had been plunged in sin and mire for thousands of years and we couldn’t even imagine a way out. Christmas time falls close to the darkest, longest night of the year, so how fitting that we celebrate with candles and twinkling lights—it’s when we long for warmth and hope the most. Christ, the Babe, the Child, the Redeemer, came when we needed Him most, when it seemed all was lost, the darkest night of the soul.

Then music, then light, then hope; for unto us a Child is born.

“And she shall bring forth a son,

and thou shalt call his name Jesus:

for he shall save his people from their sins.” Matthew 1:21

Jesus, laid in the manger, was the perfect fruit of heaven coming down into a dark, dreary and wintery world. God, incarnate, came in the flesh, crossed the barrier between the realms of heaven and earth, of spirt and flesh and landed in a manger, of all places. There we may look upon Him and believe! He is The Gift! The “it” present of every season, the sweet in a world of sour, the living water in the desert of our emotions, the bread of our life. As a human baby and King of kings, he humbled himself to live among us. The salvation and hope He offers this cold world is a warmth to defrost even the hardest of hearts.

He was not what was expected. Like an orange out of season, he was and is both humble and almighty. A gift of summer in the winter of our lives. A gift of color in the blackness. Sweet salvation. Simple and yet deeply complex in only the way God can create. All it takes is a child-like faith, then excitement, hope and anticipation like on Christmas morning. Every move, every word, from stable to cross, from resurrection to ascension, performed out of love for His creation. This is our greatest gift.

Now, we take time each year to remember this gift. This miracle that is the baby who is God. The man (1 Tim 3:16) who radiates hope throughout generations, as we read the Bible and tell our children and our neighbors about the real reason we sing and gather and give during this season. So, I entreat you to slow down this year and ponder as Mary did, just who this baby was and what he meant for mankind. Bake the cookies, wrap the gifts, hug the friends and remember, it’s not about how much we do or where we go or what we get. It is about whom we carry inside of us—the Holy Spirit—growing us spiritually. That way we can produce fruit (even while trekking through a winter of the soul), a picture of God’s love and mercy, a reflection of light that lives in our hearts and minds.

In a season often wrought with stress and pressure, in a time when people can feel most alone, in a place of life’s let-downs and disappointments, we can present someone an orange in a season of snow.

What does an orange look like today? A kind word, a token of encouragement, a remembrance, a story of redemption. Like the tradition of gold coins melting into orange-like balls, we can offer people real worth in a time fraught with imitation gold. So, give your children lasting joy in a world of broken toys, give your friends hope in a time of trials, and give those around you something sweet that is everlasting.

Don’t let the true gift of Christmas get lost in the vastness, the frazzled backdrop of white noise that often takes over this time of year. Sit by the tree, flip through the Bible and read about the baby that came to offer life to a dying world and peel a sweet orange, because really that’s what we are all longing for . . .

“Behold, the virgin shall be with child, and bear a son,

and they shall call His name Immanuel,

which is translated, “God with us.” Matthew 1:23

Living Stones

September 17, 2023 by Emily Downs

When I say the word church, you probably picture a building. I live in what is often referred to as the Bible Belt of America; there are churches on every corner. And I mean, like every corner! I can hear the church bells from where I sit right now. I recently had a non-American friend ask me how anyone here picks a church when there are so many. Excellent question.

If I lived in Europe, I would be tempted to select my Sunday morning destination by which cathedral inspired the most grandeur in my heart. I’m a sucker for a beautiful building; the older the better. Have you read my article on restoring old buildings? I love architecture and if it’s old and crumbly, all the more. I’m willing to endure damp and drafty for Old World charm, but I will complain when a church has the air conditioning on too high or if they run out of coffee. So maybe I wouldn’t have made it in a 5th century structure after all.

Build your faith upon the rock of God’s word

Although we picture a building when we say the word church, be it in someone’s living room or a domed cathedral, we should actually picture people. Other believers are the “real” church. The building is simply that—a place to gather. The church is made of “living stones.” This idea comes from 1 Peter 2. Here Peter tells us that we, “as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house” and Jesus Himself, is the chief corner stone, of which all is built around.

Well, if Jesus is referred to as a “stone” in the Bible, how blessed are we to also be likened to these seemingly uninteresting pieces of rock that can be found laying around almost anywhere? So, I figured a further study on rocks would yield something interesting spiritually. As so often it goes, once the Holy Spirit has put this thought in my head, it pops up everywhere. I have never once thought of rocks as having a spiritual lesson to teach us: gardens, misbehaving dogs (my dog, Scout!) and children—sure, but rocks? But when it comes to eternal lessons, God leaves no stone unturned.

As it turns out, rocks are just waiting to teach us about God. So next time you collect a rock at the beach or arrange them around your flower beds or (gasp!) kick them down the road, think of how God uses even these lowly guys to preach His glory.

Rocks are likened to bread, to people, to the word of God and to Christ!

Satan temps Jesus to turn the rocks into bread. What a thought! Jesus has been fasting for 40 days (I would be tempted to eat a stone after, like one day of fasting). In his human form, Jesus is so hungry and of course He has the ability to turn something boring into something delicious, something inedible into wonderous bread. It is no doubt that Jesus can work miracles (something Satan certainly doesn’t doubt); he is not tempting Him to do it, rather to refrain from using his undeniable powers. Perhaps like me, you have no issue believing God can heal or rescue you, but you battle with why He doesn’t. Here Jesus could easily bring substance out of rock, yet for God’s glory, He doesn’t do it. Is it possible that the situations in our lives are meant to teach us and mature us for some greater purpose? The rocks stayed rocks to defeat the enemy. Do you have some rocks in your life that perhaps need to stay rocks?

The Bible also likens our hearts to stone. Ezekiel 11:19 says, “And I will give them an undivided heart and put a new spirit in them; I will remove from them their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh.” I would be the first to admit that my heart can act stony. Sometimes I am unmoved by the needs of those around me because I’m too busy looking at my own wants. Perhaps I’m fed up with recurring situations or behaviors and I’ve grown weary of showing patience and love. Or worse yet, I’ve grown hardened to my own sin, it doesn’t bother me anymore. Are our hearts soft and sensitive to the prodding of the Holy Spirt? Are we being convicted to represent God well in difficult situations? In many ways it’s easier to have a hard heart. We can’t be hurt. If someone kicks our heart of stone chances are that they will get hurt, not us. Do we trust God with a soft heart?

“Put on therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, longsuffering . . . and above all these things put on love, which is the bond of perfectness.” (Col 3:12, 14)

One stone or brick by itself is fairly useless, but when fitted together and stuck with mortar they become shelter and protection from the elements. Stone houses really stand the test of time because the material is so solid. A rock or a stone is hard to damage; it can really take a beating over time. God created the church at Pentecost (this story is found in Acts) but instead of making it a physical building, he made it a living body, so it would last generation after generation. We, today, are part of that same church started in the 1st Century.

coral reef living stones — lively stones

The church is a living organism made up of souls. It makes me think of a coral reef. A reef is something solid like a wall, but it’s alive; made up of tiny living organisms called polyps. They look like wee little flowers and they are all attached together to form this living structure where other animals and plant life can survive, yet the reef itself is alive!! This makes me think of the church—a place for shelter and protection (when done right), a place that is made up of living souls, all coming together to be sanctified, to be nurtured and to grow in faith.

What part do you play? Do you provide stability by being someone that is always there and available. Are you a good listener or ready with Biblical advice? Can you help someone physically who is struggling or financially who can’t cover their expenses? We are lively stones, making up the invisible church. While we do have a calling to spread the Gospel we are told to take care of each other, other believers; we are family. Discipleship, encouragement, teaching, correcting (in love) and understanding are all part of the coral reef that is the living church.

worship truth love encouragement — The Lord God made them all …

Have you ever looked at picture of an underwater reef? It is a bright and colorful place, made up of many different plants and animals that are part of the ecosystem. We, as a church, are joined to all people, kindreds, tongues and nations that call Jesus, Lord. We often do things a bit differently, but I believe God loves variety; look at how different He has made each one of us and still we are all made in His image. The church is a place of diversity, yet what unites us in Christianity, is that Christ is our corner stone—the rock of our salvation and we believe the Bible to be the inerrant Word of God, from which we take instruction. In this ecosystem, the orange fish and the purple plants are living on the firm foundation of Christ Jesus as Lord. “The LORD liveth; and blessed be my rock; and let the God of my salvation be exalted.” (Ps18:46). “The Lord is my rock and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust, my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower.” (Ps 18:2). “He only is my rock and my salvation; he is my defence; I shall not be greatly moved.” (Ps 62:2)

God does not need us to praise Him. Jesus taught in Luke 19:40, that even if the people keep silent the rocks will cry out in praise. So watch out, we can be replaced by a mere rock. I, for one, am now completely intimidated by rocks. These guys are impressive!

rejoice in the lord Holy Spirit — Even the rocks will cry out …

Drafts on Christmas Lights

December 19, 2019 by Emily Downs

Christmas is such a unique time of year. As a kid it’s so intense, mostly about the gifts (let’s be real), but also, all the special things like decorating cookies and twinkling lights and watching favorite movies while snuggled up in red plaid pajama sets. Yet, as I entered my teens and young adult years, it lost some of its charm; I couldn’t quite get those old feelings back. The lights were not quite as bright and the wreath cookies not quite as sweet. The pressure to find the right gifts and fit in all the events started to feel like a chore. As a parent, I get to enjoy the wonder of it all again (but this time on the other side-the work side). The wonder isn’t going to put up its own lights or remember whose gift is in which identically wrapped box after the dog eats the tags off.

As a child of divorce, your lack of not being able to do it all and be everywhere is never felt as deeply as at Christmas; although in retrospect, it was good practice for marriage. The minute I told my Grandma I was engaged to my husband, she blurted out, “I get Christmas Eve” . . . it was July. We still talk about how smart that was. We were too distracted by wedding venues to realize we should probably add a disclaimer, but my husband congenially agreed. Guess where we go every Christmas Eve? (I’m taking notes.) No matter what your arrangement, you can never be in enough places or bring enough gifts or food. Because the thing with Christmas is, that it highlights what you are good at and what you are bad at. My mom can wrap a gift so that the wrapping is the gift, where I just gave a friend a gift with the price tag still on (it was on sale) so at least she knows I can find a good bargain.

While I’m beyond blessed with family and lavished in blessings, I am at the same time more keenly aware of the brokenness that many may feel during this season. The losses are felt in a more profound way this time of year. The strings of white lights reflect not only the awe and magic, but also the loss and heartache. The people that are missing, the fractured relationships, the pushed down depression or anger or bitterness that may surface in the cold air of December. Like Charles Dickens’ famous line “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,” Christmas for many of us can be a tale of two Christmases The joy of eggnog by a fire with those we love and trying to smile while Aunt Claire asks you why you aren’t married, have children, or didn’t bring more dinner rolls or Uncle Clyde asks if you have been promoted, published your book or if you would like to hear about his eczema issues (just kidding he doesn’t ask).

Unlikely of Places

As the holidays approach, most likely you are being asked to contribute or attend an event, that although you will show up (with cookies) your heart isn’t right. Perhaps there are family members that are difficult (see eczema story), maybe you feel judged or unappreciated? Holiday gatherings can bring out old insecurities and emotions we thought long buried. We revert back to our childhood roles that are just not who we are anymore. Frustrations, jealousy and misunderstandings may float through our heads as we drive to parties and stay to dance around our conversations. The enemy wants us at our worst during these times. He wants us ineffective and distracted, and while it can be lovely to chat about the job and kids and how amazing the tree looks, maybe there is someone that needs to hear something deeper. Maybe a hot cocoa in a comfy corner by the fire can lead to healing words over a deep struggle. When our hearts are right, the Lord can use us, even in the most unlikely of places.

When we feel warm and fuzzy over Christmas, it’s easy to think everyone feels this same way. After all isn’t that what we see as the cards start to arrive, lining our windowsills—smiling faces looking back in holiday cheer. Isn’t everyone enjoying the parties and shopping and looking forward to the day of being reunited around a tree? What we don’t see in the cards are the sleepless nights over our jobs, anxiety over grades, the toll of finances and the health issues yet shared. We see the good, as it should be, but also not the whole truth. I’m trying not to be fooled into thinking everyone one else is problem-free this season.

I wrote an article years ago on what goes on behind a photoshoot; all the people at work to make that one picture look perfect. Fake hair, fake eyelashes, fake food and computer generated images make models and homes look flawless. I myself have modeled in these shoots and there is not only a small army of professionals styling each set, but also liberal airbrushing to catch any possible flaws. When I look at Christmas cards, I enjoy the adorable children and creative settings, but I try not to think that they have it all together; especially, as I look around my house, at tinsel waiting to get stuck in my vacuum and I still can’t find the O from my silver letters that spell NOEL. (My son keeps asking what NEL means!) I’m behind on shopping, decorating and baking (i.e. buying random things to bring to parties because I can’t remember what I signed up for). Quite obviously, I do not have a team of stylists working on my Christmas card setting (which I’m actually not sending for the third year in a row).

I’ve decided with the house lights off and the Christmas tree lights on, that it looks almost pretty—but those lights also cast shadows. I gathered with some of my best friends last week to celebrate, but one of us is missing (she went to heaven two years ago). I miss her so much and when we are all together, I feel like I’m always looking over my shoulder, wondering who is missing from the table. As we shared salted rosemary bread and warm cookies, we also shared our loss. While I gather with family and friends, I’m overwhelmed with my love for these people. The Lord has been healing my heart with hope of knowing this life isn’t all there is and I will see those who have gone ahead, especially, my sister (who has been in heaven far longer then she walked this earth). I have mostly known life without her, but I still feel her absence more keenly at these times of emphasized togetherness. I, also, long to sit again on my grandma’s bed and tell her all my problems or ride one more time with my grandpa on a sulky, training a young race horse.

For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord!

As I smile for pictures by the tree lights, know that I’m happy and blessed, that I love eating snowman-shaped cookies and watching you open my haphazardly wrapped gift. The Lord is filling my longings with promise and as I look at my nativity set, I know that He, the Christ Child, came to suffer & die for mankind. He is lit by the glow of my tree in this moment; however, He was not in a polished glass manger scene, but in a dirty, smelly stone cave. It was most likely not well-lit, or warm or comfortable, but yet He brought the gospel of peace (“He restoreth my soul”). He would start His life on the run from men that wanted to kill Him, yet would not be angry. He would be called out of Egypt to a humble life, strikingly void of any grandeur, yet He would not be bitter. He is a King, but came as a servant. He was born, so that He might die. He gave all, so that we might gain everything.

The tree lights pale in comparison to my Saviour’s light. He illuminates all my blessings and all my faults, all my efforts and all my failures. He promises to be the strength in my weakness, the grace in my failures, the joy in my soul and He uses everything for His purpose. He is no longer a helpless babe in a manger, but God come in the flesh. He has known hunger and betrayal and deep loss, He knew His purpose and never looked for the easy road, He did not seek an earthly treasure, but one that does not rust. This time of year as the twinkling lights dance in the darkness, I’m in awe that even the tiniest of lights can be seen. I can be a little light in someone’s struggle because His light shines though me and perhaps brightest through my pain. A string of lights during the day goes unnoticed; it is in the darkness that they really shine.

**update: The missing O from NOEL has been found and returned to its rightful place!

What do the tree lights illuminate for you this time of year?

How can you be a light in someone’s darkness?

The Christmas Dress

December 06, 2019 by Emily Downs

This post is different than my regular writing. I’m actually sharing a short story (under a different title) that I wrote for a lovely girl’s magazine called Brio. I wrote this piece last year for the December issue and now that I own the rights to the story again, I’m free to share it here. Its just a simple little story that was inspired by my beautiful cousin, Kelsey (but she has great taste in bridesmaids’ dresses).

The Christmas Dress

by Emily Downs

Leave it to her brother to ruin Christmas. Sabina stared in the full-length mirror at her red and green plaid dress with a giant velvet black bow at the back, added for good measure. She looked and felt like she was twelve instead of almost fifteen, her next birthday.

Her mom rushed into the room, “Oh Sabina! You look beautiful.”

“Of course, you would say that! I look like I am starring in a Christmas play of Little Women.”

Mom walked up behind her, “My own little Jo March.”

Sabina spun around. “Mom, I can’t be seen in this. Why do I even have to be in the wedding?”

“It’s an honor to be asked and Delia wanted you and your sister to be a part. I think it was very sweet of her.”

So sweet, Sabina fumed in her head, to dress her like a colonial girl. Not to mention she was now wearing a matching dress with Samantha, her 10-year-old sister, who could not be more annoyingly thrilled about the forced twin outfits.

Sam ran into the room all bouncy ribbons and bows. “Look at us, we look the same.”

“My dream come true,” Sabina said dryly.

Sarcasm was lost on Sam and she beamed.

Mom gave her a look. “Sabina, I want you to remember that this day is not about you. You are a bridesmaid for your brother and Delia, this day is for them.”

“I’m doing it aren’t I? I’m in this dress.” She picked up the plaid dress with disgust, holding it out.

“Your heart isn’t right,” said Mom flatly.

“I can’t make myself like this dress.”

“I’m not asking you to like the dress, but the attitude with which you do things counts just as much as actually doing them.”

Sabina sighed loudly and looked away.

“You know, daughter,” Mom lowered her voice, “The Lord tells us in his Word that He doesn’t look at the outward appearance, but at our hearts. Anybody can go through the motions, but doing it with a loving attitude, that is what pleases God.”

Sabina shrugged, “As long as I’m doing it, what’s it matter?”

Mom touched her shoulder, “You have the chance to bless other people with your attitude, don’t miss out on that today.”

Sam spilled her juice and mom leaped to action to save the dress from a juice stain, which Sabina secretly thought, couldn’t make the dress any worse. She was glad Mom’s attention was off her for a while; she didn’t need a lecture in a good attitude. The pictures would end up all over social media and her whole school would be able to see her humiliation. Nobody seemed to care about that.

She stomped off to the bathroom. Pushing open the door she heard crying. Delia was sitting at one of the vanities crying. Sabina wanted to quietly back out of the room, but Delia spotted her in the mirror.

“Oh, Sabina,” she sniffed, dabbing her eye with a tissue. “Sorry you caught me crying.”

“I’m sorry,” said Sabina, “I can go.” She felt instantly uncomfortable. What if she didn’t want to marry Simon anymore or something awful? She should get her mom.

“Come in.” Delia turned from the mirror and faced her.

“I knew I would be emotional today, but it really just hit me.”

Sabina sat in one of the peach chairs in the lounge area and her plaid dress puffed up around her. She tried to pat it down without making a face.

Delia sighed, “I’m so glad you are in the wedding, it means a lot to me. And you look so pretty in that dress.”

“Sure,” said Sabina with a frozen doll-like smile.

“I don’t know if Simon told you, but my mom loved Christmas. It was her favorite day of the year.”

Sabina’s fake smile slipped a little. “I didn’t know that.” She knew Delia’s mom had passed away when she was in high school, but they had never talked about it.

“I’m not sure how to get through this day without her.” She started crying again.

“I’m sorry,” squeaked Sabina, and she meant it. She had never stopped to think about how hard this day would be for Delia without her mom.

“My mom got married on Christmas Eve, too, and those dresses,” she waved at the plaid fabric engulfing the peach chair, “are the same dresses my mom used when she got married. I showed pictures to the dressmaker and she copied them.”

Sabina stared back at her and felt something start to melt in her heart.

“Well, I better stop crying or I’ll never get my makeup done.” She swiveled back in the chair and started applying blush with a shaky hand.

Sabina watched her for a minute and felt like time had slowed. She looked down at the dress she had hated so much and saw something different. She felt her heart change. The dress was not about her or how she looked or what her friends thought. The dress was about Delia’s mom. About how she was without her mom on her wedding day, something Sabina couldn’t imagine.

“Delia,” she said in quiet voice. “I think this dress is really beautiful.” She wasn’t lying; it really was a beautiful way to honor her future sister-in-law’s mother. She suddenly didn’t care about any of that other stuff. Instantly, she knew that this was what mom meant by blessing others with her attitude.

Delia turned back to her, “Do you really think so? I know they’re old-fashioned, but I think they are really pretty, too.”

“Yes,” said Sabina and tears spilled out. “I’m so sorry you have to do this without your mom.”

“Oh, look now I have you crying; here have a tissue.” She laughed, “We have to pull it together.”

Sabina laughed too and wiped her eyes. “Thanks for letting me be a part of your wedding and for letting me wear this dress.”

Delia got up to hug her. “I’m so excited to have you as a sister. Here, help me with this makeup.”

At the reception, Mom brought Sabina a piece of cake. “You did a great job today. Delia told me what you said to her in the bathroom before the wedding. That you told her the dress was beautiful.” Mom raised an eyebrow.

Sabina took a bite of cake and nodded. “It really is. I mean that it was her mom’s dress. And,” she said reluctantly, “it might have felt good to do it with the right attitude.”

Mom laughed. “You will never regret letting the Lord use you to bless others. And,” she said with a tip of her head, “it just might come back to bless you.”

Sabina rolled her eyes, but then laughed. “I guess I did have fun today.”

“It’s amazing how our heart can change what our eyes see.” Mom hugged her, “Your heart does look beautiful in that dress.”

*********

“For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7b

selfie with my story (I love the illustration)

Although this story was written for a young audience it makes me think about the state of my own heart. I can do the right things with the wrong outlook and it falls flat. A Christmas pie dropped on the floor is still a pie, but nobody wants it. As a parent, I’m always talking about doing things with a good attitude because it really does matter. I want the pie served on a plate (preferably with whipped cream); I’m not all that interested in eating it off the floor. Although an argument could be made that floor pie is better than no pie, but it is clearly not the same experience as plated dessert. Eating it off the floor is really not the mood we were all hoping for here. Like Sabina in the story, she was willing to be in the wedding and wear the dress, but her bad attitude was ruining the actions.

How can we change our hearts when it come to the holidays this year? Maybe something as simple as having patience with the long lines at the bakery, asking the harried shop owner how they are doing or waving at an overworked postal carrier. Taking time to really listen (with patience) to that relative that likes to complain and instead of getting annoyed, maybe trying to redirect their thinking towards all their blessings. One less present to buy and to wrap for the kids traded for an extra Christmas story at bedtime. A moment of acknowledgment for the person who lost someone special and is experiencing the holidays without them for the first time.

We go to the work soiree, the family gathering, the school mixer and we are so often overextended that our hearts are not in it. It feels like one more thing to do, one more present to buy, one more veggie tray to pick up. But what if we change our attitudes and look for someone to bless. A sweet outlook can be infectious and perhaps help someone who is really struggling. A merry heart can make a dreaded task sweeter and allows us to bless others in the midst of the swirl of holiday pressures.

A merry heart doeth good like a medicine . . .

Proverbs 17:22a